


pour a little sugar on me

by inkwelled



Series: in the bottom of a coffee cup [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Puns, F/F, Happy Ending, Hopeless Lesbians, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Lack of Communication Used As A Plot Device, Pick-Up Lines, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wingman Scorpia, Wingmen Bow and Glimmer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkwelled/pseuds/inkwelled
Summary: The first time it happens, Catra thinks it’s a mistake."What is that?”Catra follows her friend’s finger and almost drops her cup when she sees the messy scrawl. It takes her a minute to decipher the gibberish and then -Hello there, how do you brew?





	pour a little sugar on me

**Author's Note:**

> i blame this entirely on [the first](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/b8/34/39/b8343962e8f2efaf6c9e5957fe69da1e.jpg) prompt.
> 
> shoutout to my beta, hannah, and [these](https://pickupline.net/situational-pick-up-lines/coffee-shop-pick-up-lines/) [three](https://www.pickuplinesgalore.com/coffee.html) [pun websites](https://www.gotlines.com/lines/coffee.php) for enabling me at midnight to write this in a single sitting in less than an hour.
> 
> enjoy!

The first time it happens, Catra thinks it’s a mistake.

"What is that?”

Catra follows her friend’s finger and almost drops her cup when she sees the messy scrawl. It takes her a minute to decipher the gibberish and then -

_Hello there, how do you brew?_

She blinks as Scorpia dissolves into giggles. Brain shorting out, she stares down at the ink as it bleeds slightly into the styrofoam and when she searches for a name, any kind of evidence of who might have done it, she comes up empty-handed.

"It was probably a mix-up," she grumbles, "also that pun sucks and whoever did this needs to up their game."

Scorpia wipes away a tear, still chuckling. "Your face! Don't you dare lie to me, that line totally worked on you and we both know it."

She opens her mouth to rebuke her friend's point but closes it as warmth creeps up her neck and across her face. By the smirk on Scorpia's face, she sees it too, and Catra scowls.

"Whatever," she grouses and trashes the cup as quickly as she can.

The blush, however, lingers long into the day. Catra sits at her desk, staring blankly at the screen, and her mind whispers _how do you brew how do you brew how do you b-_

"Yoohoo, Earth to Catra!"

Scorpia's face pops up in her vision and she yelps. Flailing, all Catra manages to do is flip herself out of her chair and has to look up into the smug face of her best friend.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Scorpia sing-songs, holding out her hand. Catra rolls her eyes at the motion but takes it anyway, brushing off non-existent dirt from her slacks. "What were you saying?"

"If you were listening to me instead of daydreaming about your mystery admirer," the other woman says smugly, "you would know."

If Scorpia didn't know better, she would expect Catra's eyes to roll right out of her head when she raises them to the heavens and mouths _why me?_  but Scorpia knows better and instead slings her arm around her friend's shoulder, chuckling.

"I _said_ \- let's go get some lunch."

Just like that, it's over.

 

 

_I can feel something brewing between the two of us._

Catra groans as Scorpia frowns, disappointed. "That's so lame - the same pun two days in a row? I'm hurt."

"How can you be the one offended?" Catra shoots back, contemplating dropping her black coffee with two sugars into the nearest trash can and not regretting it later that day. "You're not the one being hit on by some wacko with too much time on their hands and access to the Internet."

"Maybe you should have paid more attention to who took your order."

Catra looks over her shoulder at the large window panes of the tiny coffee house, the hand-painted, chipped sign declaring it to be _Bright Moon Café._

For a second, she swears she sees a swinging blonde ponytail.

She shrugs. "It's not worth it. It's probably just some prank that'll blow over in a few days."

Scorpia nods but the twist of her mouth declares she doesn't believe a single word her friend is saying. "I guess," she says, and hands over her own latte when Catra motions for it.

"What's really lame is you stealing my coffee," she mutters, and Catra flips her the middle finger while taking a purposely long drag of the over-sugared, two shots of espresso-laden latte before gagging.

 

 

"This is getting ridiculous."

"Did you see who made it this time?"

Catra drops her head into her hands and recalls the line messily written across her cup that morning - _if you were coffee grounds, you'd be espresso 'cause you're so fine_ \- and sighs.

"No."

Scorpia's smirking when she looks up.

"What?" Catra growls and her friend holds up her hands in amused surrender.

"Nothing. If I didn't know any better, though, I would say you're enjoying this."

Catra huffs. "Yeah, because someone writing weird pick-up lines on my morning coffee is something I'm enjoying."

"No really," Scorpia says easily, grabbing the armrests of her chair and spinning her around, "I think you are. Otherwise, you would've stomped in there the first day and demanded to know who it was and wanting a refund."

"You're wrong," Catra declares, turning back to her desk.

"Really? How so?"

She smirks over her shoulder at her friend. "I don't want to know who it is because they're probably a creep and anyways, I'm not looking for anyone right now."

By some miracle, that shuts Scorpia up for the next hour and a half and Catra counts the seconds until she can go home and start researching which coffee maker works the best for at-home use.

(She never does end up buying that Keurig machine, despite everything her Amazon account says.)

 

 

For the next week, Catra keeps her eyes peeled.

From the moment she places her order she watches carefully as her cup exchanges hands. It goes from the tall, dark-skinned barista with the high voice to the short girl with pink and purple hair that poofs out around her ears.

It's set on the counter by the same girl, who yells _Catra!_ and smiles at her innocently when she wraps her hand around it.

"Have a nice day!" She calls, and Catra frowns down at her hand, where the warmth of the coffee leeches through the thin styrofoam.

"No luck with the search?"

Catra makes a sound of frustration. "Not at all!" she groans, ignoring the urge to pull her curls out, one by one, from her head with frustration, "I watch the barista's every move but not one of them picks up a marker to write anything the entire time!"

"Did you check the line yet?"

_I like my customers like I like my coffee – hot, sweet, and creamy._

Scorpia bursts out laughing, and Catra burns her tongue when she takes a swig of the hot liquid to distract herself from the blush blazing its way across her cheeks.

"Shut up," she mutters and tells herself the _only_ reason she wants to figure out who the person writing the notes is so that she can punch them square in the nose.

 

 

"You're awful."

"I have no idea what you mean," Adora says, focused only on the steamed milk as she tilts the container's contents carefully into the to-go cup.

Glimmer rolls her eyes, perched on the side of the counter. "Liar," she says, kicking out her feet and smirking. "I've seen the flustered looks of the poor girl you've been tormenting these past two weeks."

"Her name is Catra," Adora shoots back instantly and winces immediately after. Glimmer chuckles.

Hopping off the counter and nudging her friend's hip in passing, Glimmer's smirk grows. "Where do you even find those pick-up lines?"

"I still have no idea what you're talking about."

"They're off some website I caught her looking at during break time."

Adora's indignant gasp of _traitor!_ is drowned out by Glimmer's laughter. Bow is standing in the doorway to the back room, arms crossed, smile playing across his lips as Adora sputters.

She lunges for him, order forgotten.

"What?" he cries, dodging her flailing attempts to hit him, "it's true!"

"You're actually the worst," Adora huffs out between breaths as Bow captures her into a headlock. Her words dissolve into a yelp, though, when his knuckles grind into her scalp and she squirms in his grasp. "Bow!"

Glimmer's still laughing when Adora manages to knock over the customer's order, and they all spend closing-up time that night scrubbing the tiles with cleaning solution that makes their hands reek of lemons for days afterward.

"You really should just tell her how you feel," Bow points out from the other side of the cafe, turning chairs over and placing them on the tables so he can mop later, "what's the worst that can happen?"

Adora laughs. "That's a loaded question."

"He's right," Glimmer says, sitting back on her heels and studying her friend. "The longer this goes on, the weirder it gets. For her, I mean."

"She hasn't objected to it," Adora mutters, scrubbing the tiles so hard her knuckles turn white, "and anyway, it's just for fun."

Bow and Glimmer exchange disbelieving looks but drop the subject. The rest of closing is spent in silence, and the next morning there's a cup on the counter with Adora's messy handwriting scrawled across the side.

_I'm soy into you._

 

 

"I don't even drink soy milk!"

Scorpia chuckles. "You're still hung up on that? That was yesterday!"

"I know!" Catra stresses, indignant, "but if whoever is doing this is going to keep doing this, they might as well do a little research! Soy milk is gross."

 

 

_I'm going to start watching my caffeine intake because baby you make my heart palpitate._

"Maybe they shouldn't work at a coffee shop then," Catra sighs, and blows into the slot in the plastic. "This is getting ridiculous."

 

 

"This is by the far the worst one!"

Scorpia groans, turning over in bed and pulling the blanket over her face.

_This can't be happening._

"Do you not know the meaning of a sick day?" she grouses, rubbing her eyes and trying to fight off the oncoming headache brought on by Catra's screeching on the other side of the phone.

"Sorry," her friend says, voice lowering slightly. "But you don't understand!"

"What did it say today?"

Catra falls silent on the other end, until -

_"My coffee hasn't kicked in yet, so I can't think of a charming pickup line."_

Scorpia snorts. Soon, she's laughing as Catra makes indignant, frustrated noises and hangs up.

 

 

_My coffee is really hot. But you're hotter._

"Maybe the simulation really _is_ glitching this time."

"Does that make me Trinity?" Scorpia says between sips of her sugary-sweet atrocity she dares to call coffee and sputters a laugh when Catra tries to body-check her into the light pole.

"I guess not."

 

 

_You're like my coffee, you keep me up all night._

"I hate everything and everyone," Catra announces but doesn't dump the cup into the trash can right outside the shop on the bustling street.

Scorpia notes this is the twenty-eighth time she's kept it.

Interesting.

 

 

_Are you a faulty French press because I'd like to be burned by you and recall you afterward._

"I don't even know what that _means."_

 

 

The thirty-second time Catra orders a black coffee with two sugars and no cream, a pretty blonde with sky blue eyes hands it to her.

Scorpia watches her friend take the cup and make a beeline for the door, seemingly not noticing the change in barista, or not caring. Over the high countertop, she meets the eyes of the tall, male barista and winks.

He smiles back, winks.

 _You roast my heart,_ Catra's cup declares, and Scorpia keeps her mouth shut.

 

 

From them on, it's always the tan, lean barista with the smiling eyes that hands Catra her cup.

 _That's a nice mug you got on ya,_ the writing boasts one day, making Catra groan the second she sees it and draws the attention of more than one customer in the cafe.

 _Been thinking about you a latte,_ it says the next, and the barista avoids Scorpia's piercing, curious gaze.

 

 

On the fortieth time, Catra's cup is blank.

Catra blinks. She turns it around in her palm, inspecting the outside from every angle, and doesn't a say a thing when she trashes it.

For the first time in thirty-three days, she throws away her cup before taking a sip.

 

 

"Okay, what's going on? Spill."

"You missed the opportunity to say _spill the beans,_ " Glimmer points out from the checkout counter and Bow shakes his head.

"Now is not the time for puns," he says sagely, "even if they are great ones. Seriously Adora, what's gotten into you?"

Their friend shrugs.

"Just not feeling it anymore," she mutters, movements mechanical as she reaches underneath the counter to grab the milk out of the fridge and start whipping it. "If she felt the same, she would have confronted me by now."

"How is she supposed to know who you are if you never sign it?"

"If she really wanted to find out," Adora says softly, "she would've figured it out by now. There's only three of us here. She obviously doesn't care."

She yanks on the knot of her apron suddenly. "I'm going on break."

Bow and Glimmer exchange looks.

 

 

"What does your cup say today?"

"I don't know, and honestly I don't care anymore," Catra shrugs, taking a sip. "It doesn't matter."

Scorpia blinks. "Huh?"

Sighing, Catra throws the empty styrofoam cup in the trash and shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. "If whoever was writing me those notes cared," she grumbles coldly, "they would've revealed themselves by now. And they haven't, they've just stopped writing them."

She shrugs.

"So why care?"

 

 

Scorpia's just shedding her coat and sitting down at her workspace when she sees it.

_We need to talk._

Unlike the unruly loops of the messages on Catra's cup, the writing on her coffee cup is neat, small. It marches across the surface in short, stout letters and she blinks.

"You good?"

Scorpia blinks, turning the writing away from prying eyes as she smiles. "Yeah, why?"

Eyeing her suspiciously, Catra whirls around in her seat. "No reason," she says, "just wondering why you looked so extraordinarily stupid just now."

She shoves at Catra's office chair, and cackles when it goes careening across the office. Atop, Catra screeches while gripping the armrests tightly and the subject doesn't come up again.

 

 

Scorpia winks at the barista when she picks up her coffee and slips a piece of paper into his hand.

 _She likes you,_ the note says, _and I recommend 'You are just the way I like my coffee. Tall, dark and strong' if you ever decide to start writing those notes on her cup again that always used to make her smile._

Adora drinks in the words greedily.

_P.S: You're both stupid and I hate both of you._

"Who did you say dropped this off again?"

Bow smiles, shrugging. "I told you," he says - he's never been the best at lying, Adora knows - "I don't know. I found it on the counter."

Adora nods, disbelieving, and types _coffee pick-up lines_ back into her search bar that night.

Like an old friend, it appears two letters in.

 

 

Catra gasps, freezing in the doorway. Behind her, Scorpia smirks, and watches over her shoulder as Catra's thumb traces over the messy handwriting she hasn't seen in two weeks.

_You are just the way I like my coffee. Tall, dark and strong._

_\- Adora._

Catra whirls around and stomps back to the counter.

"Who wrote this!" she demands, ignoring the hush that falls over the other patrons of the cafe. "Who is Adora?!"

"Me."

The first thing Catra sees is those pretty, sky-blue eyes.

The woman is a little taller than her. Long, dark lashes fall across her cheeks as she looks down, plays with the knot of the lilac-purple knot of her apron around her waist.

"Me," _Adora_  whispers, and Catra's hand wraps around her wrist.

Adora looks into chocolate brown eyes, and Catra smiles shakily. "Hi."

"Hi," she whispers back, and Catra leans her forehead against hers.

"Can I kiss you?" Catra all but breathes, and Adora's smile is blinding.

"Yes," she says, and Scorpia is the first one to whoop when Catra slots their lips together. Adora's hands come up to cradle her cheeks as Catra's own fingers wrap around her waist, pulling her close.

They break apart with a laugh.

 _Blushing makes the freckles on Catra's cheeks stand out,_ Adora notes, smoothing her thumb over the curve of the other woman's cheekbone, and she leans back in, hoping to make her do it again.

And again, and again, and again.

And she does.

"I can't believe you," Catra says later, when the Closed sign hangs in the window and the only light on is the pendant above them. _"Creamy,_ really?"

 _Adora's laugh is the prettiest sound she's ever heard,_ Catra thinks, and leans forward, hoping to make her do it again.

And again, and again, and again.

And she does.


End file.
